Growth
by Clooover
Summary: Not sidekicks anymore, but yet to be called true superheroes; it's in this state of growth that we learn to define ourselves.
1. Humming

The air was humming around them.

Was it his nerves? He'd never stood up before his King in such a way before. And yet it had not been a bad choice to have made, and he felt himself better off for doing it.

"Dude, that was _totally awesome!_ Did you see how we did that?" For a moment Kaldur worried, ridiculously, that if Kid Flash grinned any wider his head would split apart at the lips. The tattered ends of his suit flapped in the air as he waved his limbs around, raving, "We're _so_ part of the League now! Who said we weren't ready for the real stuff? Oh _man!"_

Robin attempted to quell KF with a strategically placed elbow. "Shut _up, _some of them can still hear you, you know! Don't get your spandex all up in a twist," he hissed, eyeing the few Justice League members left at the demolition site.

"Hey!" The ginger, affronted, huffed. "This. Is _not._ Spandex. And speak for yourself, cape-lad; at least my costume has _taste_."

"Says the guy with the ketchup and mustard suit," Robin smirked.

"_Hey!"_

"You're a little heavy on the mustard, don't you think?"

"Knock it off, you two." Kaldur's tone was firm, but his pale eyes danced with mirth. They had heard, seen, and done much today, and he knew it as well as the others did. Even Superboy, who had been not-so-subtly watching his elder counterpart until his departure, looked a little more at ease under the reminder of what they had achieved. Together.

Now _there_ was a thought...

Kid Flash turned on his heel to direct his gob at a new victim: the night sky. "Man, I'm not even _tired_ anymore. We rule! Am I right, or am I _right_?"

Robin muffled something about cruel and unusual embarrassment into his facepalm, Superboy's lips twitched another degree closer to cracking a grin, and Kid Flash, oblivious to it all, ranted on. And Kaldur smiled widely, genuinely; because despite himself, he was at ease with the situation. This was a good place to be. These were good comrades to have.

Perhaps, with time, they would make good teammates as well.

The air was humming around them.

* * *

I don't own Young Justice.  
Written February 05, 2011


	2. Consequences

Robin was feeling rather good about himself. The plan to investigate Cadmus _had _originally been his idea, so he felt it was rather serendipitous that it all ended on a relatively high note for all of them (one temperamental Superboy aside). Granted, he'd gotten himself and his new crew in _waaaaaaaaaaay_ deeper than he'd originally intended; but they'd gotten out, right? ..._Right?_

"Robin."

Ah, crap.

Instinctively, he cringed. KF took one look at the shadow lurking behind his fellow sidekick and made to carefully retreat, his catch-you-later marked with an apologetic raise of his eyebrows, Wally-speak for _oooooh you're in for it now, Robs._ Pfeh, as if he'd get past the Flash on his end of the 'consequences'.

Left alone, Robin turned reluctantly to attention - or tried to, anyway. His abs automatically seized at being twisted in any direction other than.. uh, no direction at all. Ooh, and the nausea was really unhelpful. Forgetting that ow, his ribs were _totally _bruised beyond belief and this was definitely going to hurt like crazy in the morning because he could tell by the way it throbbed, it didn't seem all that bad -

The Bat's brow looked even more severe than usual. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," Robin managed, rubbing his exposed shoulder. (Alfred would surely have a fit at the state of his suit.) Under his mentor's narrowed gaze he quickly amended the statement. "Mostly bruises, blunt impact. A lot of it was just the building coming down at the end. Nothing broken..." He grimaced; the pain lancing through his ribcage made any self-assessment of the damage there dubious at best. "...I think."

"You think." Like always, Batman's expression was unreadable, but Robin smiled weakly, hopefully. That was sarcasm, right? "There will be consequences for what you did today."

Oh well. Too early to hope, he supposed.

"I know," said Robin, slightly petulant. As if he hadn't already learned his lesson by getting the snot beat out of him. They'd brought the roof down, for crying out loud! "I know. I'm sorry. But I don't regret it," he added, looking cross and defiant for all the thirteen years he was worth.

"Hm."

There was the sudden weight of a hand on his shoulder. Robin looked up, surprised, catching the telltale quirk of a smile from under his guardian's mask before the man moved away in a sweep of his midnight mantle. Robin blinked; too exhausted to inhibit his relief from spreading over his face, he had to duck down in order to hide his smile. He fell into step easily behind the billowing bat cloak, feeling absurdly content to face whatever 'consequences' would come his way. He knew, somehow, that it'd be worth it.

It wasn't long before he was being whelmed by his own yawns, and by the time they reached the roof-perched Batwing it was clear he was on the losing end of the battle. Upon arrival at the Batcave Gotham's Boy Wonder was sound asleep; Batman, realizing his young ward wasn't going to see himself to bed, paused just long enough at to earn a sidelong eyebrow raise from Alfred.

Morning would find Richard Grayson tucked comfortably into his sheets, a note detailing 'consequences' stickied to his bedside drawer.

* * *

I don't own Young Justice.  
Written February 5, 2011


End file.
